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He'd really fucked up this time.
Sherlock stared down helplessly at the mess of papers swimming in a puddle of tea, the ink spreading and blurring until it was unreadable.
"Shit, shit, SHIT!" He hissed, frantically trying to find something to mop up the spilled liquid.
"Trouble?" A voice by the door asked.
Turning, Sherlock felt his face go red as he met John Watson's eyes. John leaned casually against the wall, his head tilted back, peering at Sherlock through his wire-framed glasses. He was impeccably dressed, as usual. A well-fitted black suit hugged his body, the only hint of color a blue and white pocket square at his breast. Compared to John, Sherlock's own attire was positively disheveled, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows, black tie loosened, a pencil tucked behind his ear and nearly lost in the mop of dark curls that stuck out in all directions.
"N-no." Sherlock stammered, still looking for something to soak up the spreading tea. "Just... just an accident, it'll be all right."
Liar. He thought to himself.
Coming closer, John asked, "Are those the completed exams I asked you to help grade?"
Sherlock had been John's assistant teacher for six months now and he'd developed a bad habit of creating mess and chaos in the classroom. Normally organized and precise, Sherlock found himself easily flustered under John's gaze. The man's strong bearing belied his shorter stature; he had a quiet dominance about him that had Sherlock off his game every time he was nearby.
"I, um...." Sherlock floundered for words, gazing helplessly down at the mush of papers and tea. Giving up, his shoulders sagging, he rubbed at his temples. "I'm so sorry. I don't know why I'm so clumsy lately."
John stared down at the ruined papers, a frown tugging at his lips. He crossed his arms and sighed heavily. "Sherlock... do you realize how much this puts us behind? I'll have to administer the exam again."
"I know, I know." A note of whining crept into Sherlock's voice and he tried to tamp it down. "Again, I'm so sorry. I can administer the exam, just tell me how to make this better?"
"Well, you can start by cleaning up my desk, for one thing." John grumbled, moving to lean against one of the student's desks.
"Of course!" Sherlock fetched a roll of paper towels from the supply cupboard and set to work soaking up the tea. The ruined papers were dumped unceremoniously in the bin, and in a matter of minutes, the desk top was clean and dry once more.
John watched Sherlock the entire time he cleaned. His eyes roved over Sherlock's body, taking in the curve of his buttocks and the way his trousers clung to his thighs. Sherlock's face burned with embarrassment as he looked back and caught John looking. He swallowed, John's intense gaze pinning him to the spot. After he finished cleaning the mess, Sherlock straightened and faced John.
"What now?" He asked.
John stayed quiet, still simmering with frustration. After a moment, he turned his face away and gave a short bark of laughter. "Back in my day, this would all be cleared up by a caning."
Sherlock's face snapped up, his skin draining of color as he met John's eyes, which now sparkled with a teasing light. Sherlock felt something dark and alluring uncoil in his stomach. "S-sir?"
"Well, there have to be consequences, don't there?" John's voice was soft, almost a whisper, but there was a note of steel behind his words.
"I...um... I suppose?"
"Pity I don't have a cane." John said, striding around his desk and opening a drawer. "But I do have this."
He held a ruler in his hand, approximately eighteen inches long and an inch and a half wide, made of hard wood. John swished it through the air and smacked it lightly on his palm. "What do you say, Mr. Holmes? Shall we clear the air once and for all?"
Swallowing audibly, Sherlock's eyes locked on the ruler and imagined what it would feel like against his skin. His cock stirred in his trousers as he thought of John wielding it over him. Slowly, he nodded, meeting John's eyes.
"Oh, no." John said, smiling. "That's not how you respond to that question. Use your words, Mr. Holmes."
Sherlock felt weak at the knees, the pressure of his desire building hot, a flame kindling in his belly. "Yes, sir."
"Yes, sir...what?" John teased, smiling broader.
"Yes, sir, I need to be punished. Please punish me."
"That's better." John patted the desk. "Right. Trousers and pants down, hands on the desk."
Sherlock fumbled at his trouser buttons, then slipped both trousers and pants over his narrow hips. His cock, already half erect, caught briefly on his pants, bouncing as he pulled the fabric past it. John eyed it appreciatively, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips.
Bracing his hands against the desk, Sherlock bent over and presented his buttocks to John. Walking around him, John used his feet to push Sherlock's legs apart, correcting his stance. He pushed Sherlock's shirt up above his waist and pressed gently on his back, causing Sherlock to jut out his ass further, the globes of his buttocks at the perfect height for spanking.
Leaning forward, John whispered instructions in Sherlock's ear, his breath sending shivers down Sherlock's spine. "I want you to count for me, Mr. Holmes. And I'll take a thank you, as well. Then I want you to ask me for the next one, are we clear?"
"Yes, sir." Sherlock panted, his erection growing stiffer, rubbing uncomfortably on the edge of the desk.
"Very good. I think we'll start with ten, for now." John nipped at Sherlock's earlobe, his teeth biting lightly into the tender flesh. Sherlock sucked in his breath, the heat of desire suffusing his body.
John stood back and admired Sherlock's prone body, the pale skin of his buttocks and the strain of muscle as Sherlock tensed in anticipation. Swishing the ruler through the air a few times to get a feel for it, John readied his stance and raised his arm.
The ruler arced through the air and with a sharp smack, landed on Sherlock's buttocks, instantly raising a faint, red stripe and eliciting a gasp from Sherlock's mouth. Tears sprang to his eyes as the warm pain radiated over his ass.
"One!" He yelped. "Thank you, sir."
John stepped forward, rubbing the raised stripe on Sherlock's ass, causing Sherlock to jump at the touch of rough fingers. "And? What else, Mr. Holmes?"
Sherlock's voice rose in pitch as he squeaked out the next part, "May I please have another?"
"Good man." John said, smacking his hand lightly on a butt cheek, the skin twitching beneath his hand.
He resumed his stance again and raised the ruler. Swish, smack, a twin stripe appeared across Sherlock's ass.
"Two! Thank you, sir, may I please have another?"
Three, four, and five followed, Sherlock crying out with each one, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the desk tightly. His erection strained, pressed into the edge of the desk, leaking pre-cum from the tip.
John rested after the fifth, flexing his shoulder to loosen the tension. He stroked the red stripes crossing Sherlock's buttocks, causing the prone man to jump and hiss through his teeth as John's fingers sent delicious tingles of pain through him.
"Are you doing all right?" John asked, his voice softening slightly.
Sherlock, overcome with the desire coursing through his veins, nodded, and was reprimanded with a light smack of John's palm. "Yes, sir."
"You know why we're doing this?"
"Yes, sir, because I keep making mistakes."
"Correct. I want to teach you not to be so nervous around me. Don't think I haven't noticed."
Sherlock felt the blush creeping back into his cheeks and he finally let his tears fall. "I just want to make you proud of me, sir."
John moved his hand to Sherlock's back, rubbing circles as he comforted him. "Shhh. Of course I'm proud. I know you will be an excellent teacher one day, if you'll just let me help you."
"Yes, sir." Sherlock mumbled through his tears. "Thank you, sir."
"Are you ready to finish?"
Taking a few deep, shuddering breaths, Sherlock nodded, then caught himself. "Yes, sir. Please, may I have another?"
John took his time with the final five strokes, landing each one perfectly on Sherlock's ass. The room echoed with the sharp smack of wood against skin, Sherlock's cries, and then his count. After the last stripe landed across Sherlock's buttocks, John relaxed and went to Sherlock's side. Placing his hand once more on the small of his back, John bent and placed his lips on one of the red stripes, feeling the heat of Sherlock's punishment on his lips as he pressed a gentle kiss on his skin.
"Thank you, sir." Sherlock whispered, his shoulders trembling a little from the strain of holding himself up.
"Thank you, Mr. Holmes. You did very well." John straightened, his hand still rubbing Sherlock's back comfortingly. "Would you like your reward for a job well done?"
Turning his head, Sherlock cast questioning eyes on John. "Sir?"
Cupping the bulge at his trousers, John smiled. "I believe we have a shared problem that could be taken care of through teamwork."
Closing his eyes and letting a look of pure bliss wash over his face, Sherlock nodded. He rose stiffly from the desk, his cock jutting upwards, its tip flushed and leaking. His cock bobbed with each step as he walked towards John. He reached for the zipper in John's trousers, raising his eyebrow questioningly at him.
"Go ahead." John said, and Sherlock sunk to his knees on the tiled floor, shifting until he found a position that didn't hurt his knees.
Pulling the zipper slowly, Sherlock pushed John's trousers and pants to pool around his ankles and freed his cock. He wrapped his hand around the base and pressed a kiss to the tip, then drew his lips down the length, kissing the veins and ridges softly. John groaned deep in his throat and shuffled back to press against the desk, his hands bracing himself up as his knees went weak.
Sherlock massaged John's testicles with his eager fingers, gently squeezing and manipulating them. He licked his tongue up the underside of John's swollen cock, then closed his lips over the tip and took as much of the length of him as he could in his mouth, swirling his tongue over the stretched skin.
John pushed one hand into Sherlock's curls, tugging lightly, and groaned again. "Yes, just like that." He whispered harshly, his voice rough with lust. "Take me in, Sherlock."
John's hips undulated as Sherlock took more of him in his mouth, his fingers still working at his balls as he hummed softly in his throat. Plunging his head up and down over John's cock, he enjoyed the wordless grunts and cries that escaped John's mouth.
"Christ, Sherlock." John whimpered. "I need to be inside you. Now."
Sherlock withdrew from John's cock and scrambled to his feet, unbuttoning his shirt and casting it aside. "Where, sir?"
Removing the rest of his suit, so that they were both standing in front of each other, naked, John took his arm to guide Sherlock, pushing his back onto the desk. The edge cut into Sherlock's tender backside, causing him to gasp. John paused, a question in his eyes.
"It's fine." Sherlock said. "I want you to take me here, now."
Needing no further prompting, John nudged Sherlock back on the desk and spat into his hand, slicking the length of his cock with his saliva. He positioned his cock at the delicate, pink bud of Sherlock's ass, easing the tip inside. Sherlock gripped the edge of the desk behind his head and moaned. He wrapped his long legs around John's waist and thrust his hips to meet him, the length of John's cock sliding into his ass. John paused to let Sherlock adjust to his girth, then began moving his hips.
"God, you feel good." John hissed as he began thrusting in and out, the tip of his cock grazing Sherlock's prostate and causing delighted moans and whimpers to escape his lips.
John moved his hands to grip Sherlock's buttocks, his fingers pressing into the raised stripes left by his ruler. Sherlock moaned as the mix of pain and pleasure spilled over him like waves of the ocean. His own hand found his cock, stiff and straining, and stroked in time with John's thrusts.
The sounds of skin slapping against skin and John's grunts mixed with Sherlock's cries of pleasure continued as John rutted into Sherlock, his ass muscles clenching with each stroke.
"Tell me what you want, Sherlock." John ground out between his teeth as they met each other thrust to thrust. He squeezed his fingers tighter, leaving fingerprints to match the stripes.
Sherlock stroked his cock faster, feeling himself approaching the edge. "I want you to fuck me hard and come inside me." He paused, then remembered. "Sir."
Losing himself at that last word, John increased his thrusting, pumping his hips into Sherlock, skin slapping loudly as he drove into him. His thrusts slowed and lengthened as he felt pressure building up and, with one last push, he threw back his head and moaned wordlessly as he came, shooting hot streams of come into Sherlock's ass, his cock pulsing. Sherlock followed soon after, stroking himself to completion and shooting come onto his chest as he arched his back and cried out.
Loosening his grip on Sherlock's buttocks, John leaned into him, catching his breath. A fine sheen of sweat covered both their bodies. Sherlock scooted back, sitting up and unwrapping his legs from around John's waist. He pulled John to him, pressing his sticky chest against him, both their cocks softening. He caught John's lips with his teeth, then pressed a kiss to them, his tongue probing into John's mouth. Sherlock breathed in John's musky scent through his nose and tangled his fingers through his golden hair. John's hands roamed over his back and hips as he kissed back, both their bodies warm, supple and loose.
"Did I please you, sir?" Sherlock broke the kiss and whispered into John's ear.
A low, rumbling laugh greeted his question and John buried his face in the crook of Sherlock's neck, nibbling lightly with his teeth. "I am very pleased."
He licked a line of saliva on Sherlock's neck, then blew on it to cool the skin. Sherlock shivered happily and pressed closer, his hand running the length of John's back to squeeze his buttocks.
Pulling back to meet Sherlock's eyes, John forced his eyes to grow stern. "I hope you learned a lesson today."
"Yes, sir." Sherlock whispered, pouting. "I'm sorry, sir."
John caught Sherlock's chin in his hand and lifted his face up to press a soft kiss to his lips. "You are brilliant and fantastic. But you must learn to not be so tense and nervous around me."
He pulled Sherlock to his feet and rubbed his hands over his buttocks, the skin still pink and warm from the spanking. "Perhaps I shall have to schedule regular punishments to work out some of those nerves. Hmm?"
Blushing attractively, Sherlock smiled shyly and nodded. "I think I'd like that, sir. You have so much to teach me."
Giving one last, soft squeeze to Sherlock's bottom, John broke the embrace and gathered his clothing. "Let's get cleaned up... my evening class will be here soon."
He drew close to Sherlock once more, trailing his lips over Sherlock's jawline to rest his mouth near his ear.
"Lessons will continue tonight when we get home, love."
Pulling away, they shared a soft giggle.
Grinning, Sherlock nodded and took his clothes from John. "Yes, sir."